Dammit, Alfred
by Auramyuu
Summary: Um. Depression, swear words, and mentions of suicide, so. Beware and stuff. :       Reviews are love!


Fuck it.

Mattie thought hard about it again. "It happened again today…", he mumbled inspecting his chicken wings. "Who…?", the polar bear questioned, with a blank look on his face. Well, that certainly didn't help…  
Matthew sighed deeply to steady his breath. "You look sad…", the bear said, looking up at his 'nameless' master. The blonde put on a smile, as he always did, all of the time, "No, I'm fine", he answered, lying to his beloved pet. "No you're not", his fluffy companion argued, "You're never okay…"

Something struck in the Canadian. Kumajirou knew him too well, but not enough.

Firstly, Francis remembered him when it was convenient. But why wasn't Mattie convenient? If Francis wanted to brag that he raised the nation that created insulin, the zipper, and had the world's largest supply of fresh water, sure Mattie existed. If Mattie brought pancakes or cookies to the world meting, Francis was proud. But if Mattie sat next to him at a meeting, the chair appeared empty.

Second, Arthur. Back when Matthew was a child, Arthur worked hard to take him away from Francis. The Englishman seemed to adore him until he hit 13. Then in the War of 1812, Arthur praised him highly, but only for burning down the white house, then, he was forgotten again…

Thirdly was his friend. He only had two friends in the entire world, Kumajirou and Cuba. Cuba always mistaken Matthew for Alfred, which resulted in the poor Canadian getting beaten up. Kumajirou knew him since before Matthew could walk, so it would be nice if the bear knew his name, but that would clearly never happen.

Matthew handed the bear a boneless wing, and walked to the cabinet searching it for something as his thoughts only brought him down more and more.

The thing that hurt him most though…

"Dammit, Alfred…", he said feeling tears threaten to pour from his eyes. "I-if I wanted anyone to notice me the most, it was you…", he said pulling out just what he was looking for. Clorox and rat poison. Not that he had pests, oh no. He bought the rat poison just for this purpose…  
Chlorine and arsenic were the two most active ingredients, or rather, the only things Matthew saw in the ingredients.

Matthew was lovesick over Alfred, and the American didn't even know he existed. Mathew tried so hard to get his attention, speaking to him, sitting near him, offering to treat him to a meal or two… Nothing worked or so it seemed. The bear wasn't even listening to his master's troubled words. "No one would miss me… I'm not acknowledged at meetings, at my friend's house, not by my pet, not even by m-my fucking family…", he said, bringing his sleeve up to dry his eyes. "No one needs me… I'd be doing the world a favor… I don't even h-have to write a letter, because who would care…?"

That's right. If everyone thought his country was America, Alfred could fucking /HAVE/ Canada. He could be larger than Russia, then. A last gift from the man who loved him so much.

He looked the delicious chicken wings over, "It'll be just like normal… I'll eat and go to sleep… J-just won't wake up this time…", he said, explaining it to no one in particular, maybe himself. Who knows?

The arsenic would kill him; no doubt, the chlorine was just a back up. There's no cure for that poison, and Matthew knew that. So if someone did care enough to have his stomach pumped, the chlorine would finish the job.

And it would be okay if Matthew did this. He and Alfred represented the North American continent, but Alfred was the strong, courageous, hero. He could go on, he was the one that the other nations saw. Not… Canada…

He opened the top of the box, readying to sprinkle the dust over his food that would kill him.  
He quivered.  
He bit his bottom lip.  
More tears started forming.  
"Dammit!", he couldn't do it. He tossed the poison int the trash, and shoved the Clorox away. Something in his stomach churned, and something was oddly reassuring about not dying tonight, but the empty upset area in his heart and mind wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. He rolled a joint and lit in, taking in a huge breath of the relaxing drug and held it in for a moment before exhaling, wanting to get high and escape. Then he started eating the unpoisoned food.

…  
Fuck it.


End file.
